Myshka
by killmenowporfavor
Summary: Hydra Agent File Stella Barnes: Age- 23: Birthplace- Brooklyn, New York, New York: Codename- Myshka, Mouse: Specialty- Assassination Torn from her home by the very people Steve and Bucky are fighting, how will she manage to survive and reunite with them?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer; I do not own anything other than Stella and her plot.**

1936

"Bucky, have you seen Steve? I can't find him anywhere," Stella chirped as she bounded up to him. Her mother's funeral had just ended and Steve had disappeared almost instantly. Bucky threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her to his side.

"Well, let's go see what trouble he's into now," They waved goodbye to his family before walking down the side walk. Stella kept her eyes peeled on the streets and Bucky looked down every alley. The two of them were almost constantly looking for Steve. So much so that it was habitual by now.

"He couldn't have gotten far," their hands intertwined as they continued their search.

He bumped his shoulder into her's lightly, "Maybe he just wants to be alone, doll."

"Yeah, maybe." She nodded as he turned her in the direction of his apartment. He didn't live far from Steve and herself which was something he did on purpose.

"What do you wanna eat?" He asked as he led her into the kitchen. It was normal for him to cook for her and Steve since neither of them could cook to save their lives.

"Whatever you wanna make," She suggested as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She hadn't realized it was already noon. She watched him as he busied himself by making sandwiches. They ate quickly and she continuously glanced out the window to see if she could spot Steve on the sidewalk. Even though he was the oldest by two years, she still fretted over him like mad. Bucky often told Steve that he was going to give her grey hairs.

"There he is," Bucky informed from his spot at the window. Stella sprung off the couch and over to him, instantly noticing the small blonde man on the street below.

"C'mon," She grabbed his hand and yanked him in the direction of the door. She paused just long enough of him to lock it behind them as she trudged down toward the street.

Bucky pulled her into an alley and kissed her. They had been hiding their relationship from Steve the entire two years they had been together. They were sure he'd be nothing but happy for him, but they didn't want to risk it.

She emerged from the alley a moment later with him hot on her tail. They didn't hold hands this time, simply walking side by side like normal friends. He occasionally bumped into her, causing her to stumble and attempt to avoid running into people.

"Steve," She called as they caught up to him. She trotted up the stairs with Bucky following slowly after her, "We looked for you after the funeral but couldn't find you."

"Yeah, my folks were wantin' to give you a ride to the cemetery."

Steve shook his head, "I know, I'm sorry. I just kinda wanted to be alone."

"How was it?" She asked lightly. She had made it clear that she hadn't wanted to go to the cemetery the day before. She just couldn't face it.

"It's okay. She's next to Dad." She nodded and ducked her head. She didn't remember their father since he had died shortly before she was born. Bucky noticed the change in her mood and lightly brushed his hand against hers.

"You know, I was gonna ask."

Steve cut him off, "I know what you're gonna say, Buck-"

"C'mon, we could but the couch cushions on the floor. Stell can sleep on the bed. It'll be like when we were kids," Steve began to search for his keys. Stella started to search her jacket for her own set once he couldn't find his, "All you gotta do is shine my shoes. Maybe take out the trash." He kicked over a brick with his foot and bent to pick up the spare key to the apartment. He handed it to Steve, almost stepping on Stella's foot in the process.

"Thank you, Buck, but we can get by on our own." Stella tried to hide the contempt look on her face as Steve included her in his statement. She loved her brother dearly, but he was horridly independent and didn't often ask her opinions on things.

"The thing is, you don't have to. Neither of you," He clamped a hand over Steve's shoulder, "I'm with you till the end of the line, pal."

"I know. Thank you." They turned away from each other, Steve to open the door and Bucky to leave to his apartment. Bucky ran a hand over her back as he past. She smiled at him before stepping into the apartment behind Steve.

1942

She was over at his apartment, scrubbing away at the dishes from the night before when the mail came. She had shuffled through it, making sure none of it was the neighbor's before dropping it on Bucky who was still in bed. She had returned to the dishes after he groaned and began to sit up. They both drank a little bit last night, but he was much more hungover than her. She was now twenty-two and had a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance.

"I've been drafted." Stella turned to look at Bucky as he entered the kitchen. He was only wearing pants and socks, a sure sign that he had been getting dressed while reading through the mail.

"You're kidding me," she croaked, biting back her tears. He truly didn't want to go to war. What he wanted was to stay here to protect Steve and love Stella.

"I leave next month for training."

"Next month? What, they're shipping you guys out to training just in time to miss Christmas? They couldn't wait until fucking January?" The dish water sloshed up at her as she threw a spoon into it. She ripped the dish towel off of her shoulder and slammed it against the counter.

"Hey, hey, calm down, doll," He spun her around and trapped her between him and the counter. Her eyes met his and they held the same terror and dread. Sure, Bucky wasn't weak by any means. He worked out and was in good shape. Neither of them could help but fear for his life.

"I don't want to lose you."

"And you _won't_. Not now and not ever," He declared and pulled her against him. Her head just barely reached his shoulder and she leaned heavily against him.

He all but shoved her off of him and rushed back into the bedroom, "Buck, what are you doing?" She moved to follow after him, but he came skidding back into the kitchen, effectively sliding on his socks. His face was lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning as he approached her.

"I was gonna to wait and do this on Christmas, but I guess since I won't be here, now is as good a time as any," He slid down to one knee in front of her. Her hand flew to her mouth as he held the dainty ring out to her, "Stella Grace Rogers, will you make me the happiest man in the world by becoming my wife?" She didn't trust her voice so she simply nodded. He stood up and picked her up all in one motion and set her on the counter.

"This is why you've been suggesting we tell Steve about us," She stated as he slid the ring onto her finger.

"Mhmm, this is exactly why. Now we have no choice but to tell him. I'll leave for training and when I get back, we'll get married before I get my orders. Once the war is over and when I return home for good, we'll have the ceremony of your dreams."

She nodded with a grin, "Sounds like a plan. But I really don't think we should tell Steve. At least not until the time is right. He's been so tense about not getting accepted into the army that he's been lashing out. He bit my head off last night when I told him I was staying with a friend."

"I don't know if I want to talk to Steve about that. 'Oh, hey, pal! By the way, Your sister and I have been together for like nine years and we're also married. Surprise!'" She wasn't sure why but hungover Bucky was always a little more fun than sober Bucky. When he was drunk or hungover, he didn't have a care int he world. She knew, for sure, that he was the one she wanted for the rest of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Early 1943

"I got enlisted into the army."

"You _what?"_ Stella bit out as she turned to look at Steve. He looked smaller than ever standing in the doorway to their kitchen with his chest puffed out proudly.

"I got-"

"No, no, I heard you. You told me you were going to stop enlisting. It's," She whipped her head around and looked at the clock, "Six-thirty in the damn morning and I haven't even had my coffee. Mind telling me where you went so early and where the actually approved you?"

"It was last night. They had a small center set up. There's a special program I'm being enlisted into."

"Last night?" She thought back to last night at the future expo that Bucky and her forced Steve to go to. Bucky and her had been wed in front of a preacher yesterday since he was leaving early this morning and they wanted to celebrate. They had yet to tell Steve so her ring was worn on a chain around her neck, "When last night, you were with us the entire time?"

"I went into the recruitment center when you and Bucky left to go dance."

"Bucky said you were leaving to come home," Steve shrugged and she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She couldn't be mad at Bucky for lying to her. They had been trying to get Steve to stop enlisting for fear of him getting caught lying on the papers. Bucky knew telling her the truth would dampen her night.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

She shook her head, "I'm going to be so alone without you and Buck here."

October 1943

"Stella? Hey, Stella! I'm home," At the sound of Steve's voice in the apartment, she rushed out of her room.

"Holy _shit,_ what happened to you?" For once in her life, she looked _up_ at Steve. He had mentioned the experiment in a letter he wrote her a few months prior, but she hadn't gotten a chance to see him since then. His show to boost bond sales had finally came to Brooklyn before he left for Italy and he stopped by to surprise her.

"I told you the experiment worked."

"But _how?_ You're huge," She walked around him, slightly disgruntled that she wasn't taller than him anymore, "Forget it. You hungry?" She led him into the kitchen, only turning around when the walls shook and Steve grunted in pain. He took up most of the doorway, holding his forehead and glaring at the top of the door frame.

"Has that always been that low?"

"No," she laughed, "You're just a foot taller. I made spaghetti for supper and there is still a bit left over. I got done eating not too long ago." She explained as she gestured toward the pan still sitting on the stove. He got a plate fixed and sat down in front of her at the table. She watched him fondly as he rattled away about touring the country and everything else going on.

"I haven't been able to see Peggy since-," Her eyes tore off the table and she looked at him in confusion. He had been talking for a solid twenty minutes and she wasn't sure what made him stop.

She tried to follow his eyes, making sure there wasn't anything on her shirt or the table before it clicked what he was staring at. She had been subconsciously spinning her wedding ring around her finger and the action had caught his attention.

"Steve-"

"Your engaged? When were you going to tell me? Who is he?" She was shocked by how betrayed he sounded and how dark his stare was.

She shook her head, "We were waiting for the right time and I knew your mind was on other things.."

"When's the wedding? I'll try to be-" He stopped himself again as he caught the guilt wash over her face, "Did you _already_ get married?" She nodded and peered at him sheepishly, "Well, I want to meet him. It's the least you could do since I wasn't even invited." Her body tensed as she heard the anger creep into his voice. He was as nice as could be but they _were_ siblings. A fight wasn't uncommon for them.

"No one was invited. It was just him, his mom, and I. It was a last minute thing."

"You didn't even tell me you were engaged! I didn't even know you were seeing anybody. You've _never_ gone out with anybody and now all of a sudden you're married? What the _hell_ , Stella?" He had shot out of his seat, causing the chair to fly back against the wall.

She stood up as well, "Maybe if you would have pulled your head out of the army's ass long enough you would have noticed. You haven't given a shit about me ever since Mom died. Hell, you _never_ gave a shit about me."

"Is that what you think?" They were both to the point of screaming and standing toe to toe near the doorway. Their fights usually consisted of a screaming match that either Bucky or their mother broke up.

"That's what I _know_. You never once asked me how I was when Mom died. You never asked how I was when you and Bucky left for war. You never asked my opinion on anything and I'm sick of it. Don't act like you're upset about not knowing about my wedding. Don't act like you _care_."

"I _do_ care!"

"No, you only care about being as good as everyone else. About proving that that little guy from Brooklyn can be just as good as anyone else."

"Get out of my face," He had only meant to shove her lightly like he always did when they got in each other's faces during a fight. Instead of her just stumbling back a foot or two like normal, she was thrown into the counter across the kitchen. She grimaced at the pain of her lower back hitting the hard surface before staring at Steve, "Stell, oh God, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to, I'm still getting used to everything."

" _Don't_ ," She bit out and made her way to the front door. She ripped her coat off of the hook and snatched up her keys.

"Where are you going?"

She glared at him, "Out. We both need time to calm down. I'll be back in an hour." He nodded and she walked out of the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

The cold air whipped around her causing her to pull her jacket tighter. It was late, nearing midnight, but the streets were still alive. She was unsure of where to go. Usually after a fight with Steve, she would go hide out with Bucky at his place or go see her friend, Connie. With Bucky away at war and Connie busy taking care of her newborn, Stella didn't really have anywhere to go. She would just have to settle for wandering the streets until she was ready to go home.

"Stella Barnes?" She stopped and turned at the sound of her name. She peered into he dark alley, stepping back slightly. She knew this was a good time to turn around and run home but she was frozen in her place.

"Y-Yes?" She took another step back as three men stepped out of the darkness. Their stares were as hard as the grip they had on the guns in their hands.

" _She_ is the one Zola wants?" The man on the left asked.

The middle man nodded, "Her brother was strong enough to survive the serum. He thinks she will be, too." She took her chance and turned to sprint away, only to stop when a car skidded to a stop in front of her. She could barely let out a gasp before a force hit her in the back of the head, causing everything to go black.

November 1943

"I gotta talk to Peggy once we get back. See if there's any word on Stella."

"Wait," Bucky looked over at Steve as they walked side by side back to camp. He was shocked when Steve had saved him a few hours prior. He was even more shocked at Steve's size, "What's wrong with Stella?" The couple had, of course, written back and forth and she hadn't mentioned anything wrong in her last letter. He hoped that they hadn't sent out a letter to her stating he was dead.

"When I, uh, when I was in Brooklyn last month I went to go see her. We got into a fight because I found out she's married to some guy and never told me about him. She left to calm down; said she'd be back in an hour. She never came back. She's been missing ever since. They've been looking-" Bucky tuned him out as his words rattled around his head. Stella, his _wife,_ was missing and there was nothing he could do about it.

Meanwhile

"So, _you're_ the one Zola's been experimenting on." Her eyes were trained on her guard as he circled her like she was prey. She wasn't sure of her exact location but she knew it was cold. She knew it wasn't New York since she had seen tons of snow and mountains when they dragged her into the building.

She fidgeted her hands against the arms of the chair she was in. She had always been locked up one way or another. They had been giving her injections every few days. While they hurt like hell, they made her stronger. Her mind had started working differently due to the serum heightening some of her qualities. She had tried to fight them on multiple occasions, but even though she was stronger than them, they were much more skilled than her. She couldn't count the amount of times she's been shot at and grazed by bullets. She was curious as to why they never actually killed her.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" The man jested, earning a glare from her. Once they grew tired of her fighting, they strapped her into the metal restraints on the chair. At first, it was only her wrists and ankles. She had bit the man giving her the injection the day before and now had a mask on the lower half of her face and more restraints. It covered from the bridge of her nose all the way to under her chin. There were vents on it, allowing her to breathe and her voice to carry through. She had spoken a few times with the mask on, but every time she did, the mask electrified, causing her to get shocked.

The metal door opened and another guard poked his head in, "It's ready. Bring her in." Her guard nodded and walked over to her.

"Now, are you going to be nice for me?" He smirked and tilted her head up with his index finger. She yanked her head back, glaring a warning at him. She wasn't sure who these people were, but she _knew_ they weren't the good guys.

Her guard quickly undid most of the restraints, leaving her hands and ankles strapped down. He bent to undo her ankles, never taking his eyes off of her incase she tried to make a move. When her ankles were free, he stood up to undo her hands. He freed her hands and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to stand up.

Faster than he could react, she kicked her foot up between his legs. He doubled over and she slammed her head into his. She kicked him one last time, hard in the chest, and he collapsed backward. She walked over to the body and withdrew his gun from the holster. She grabbed the mask on her face and ripped it off.

"This is why I chose you," She whipped her head and the gun up to aim it at the man in the doorway. Zola had come to speak with her multiple times about how she was going to change the world. He talked as if she was going to be doing good things but she saw straight through his lies, "This is the fourth guard you've killed since your first injection. The first time you killed a man, you sobbed. Now," he kicked the foot of the dead body, trying to distract her, "You didn't even flinch. You're stronger than I thought you were."

"I want to go _home_ ," She bit out, her voice rough from not being used.

"Myshka, you _are_ home." At least twenty or so guards rushed in. She thought about fighting them, but she _knew_ she wouldn't win, "Now, follow me." Zola abruptly walked out of the room. Eight of the guards formed somewhat of a cage around her as she followed after the scientist.

"What does that do?" She peered at the chair sitting in the middle of a large room. There looked to be some kind of a headpiece on it, making her nervous.

"It will help you achieve what we need you to do," The guards forced her into the chair and more metal restraints were placed on her. There were some on her hands, ankles, shins, thighs, waist, and shoulders. She could hardly move an inch in any direction.

"Will this hurt?" She asked, glancing toward Zola. While she didn't like the man, he had been the only one to be straight with her. He didn't tease her and feed her lies.

He looked at her with pity, "I'm afraid it will, Myshka. Bite this," He held a thick, rolled up cloth toward her face. She gulped before doing as told. His eyes held something unreadable to her as he observed her. She was a _perfect_ candidate for this. She had more fight in her than most and her stature was perfect for the missions. However, she was so innocent. He saw it in her when she first arrived. He almost thought about claiming she wasn't the right person just to send her back home.

He knew, now, that he had to go through with it. After her brother had freed her husband, Zola _knew_ Hydra needed _her_ to be their weapon against the two americans. He pushed a few buttons and the chair tilted back slightly as the headpiece closed in around her forehead and cheek. Her breathing quickened which was the first sign of her terror any of them had seen since she was first arrived.

The electric current picked up, eliciting a scream out of her. She bit down hard on the cloth and Zola diverted his eyes. All he could do was _hope_ that he could break her quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

January 1945

 _Fifteen months._

That's how long she had been fighting. At first, they tried to wipe her mind every two weeks. They had succeeded in clearing her most recent memories. She couldn't remember who they were or what they did to her. She didn't remember the injections given to her when she first arrived.

She _did_ , however, remember Steve and Bucky. She tried to lie and say that she didn't recognize their picture but they had seen through her lies. The beating she received was severe, but not anywhere near as bad as the electrocution.

"Soldier," She looked toward the man in her doorway. She had been expecting him, just like always. They had moved the treatment from every two weeks to every Wednesday.

She nodded and placed her book down beside her. After throwing her shoes on, she followed the guard out and into the hallway. She was weak spirited now, all of her energy being put into keeping her memories; keeping _herself._ She had stopped physically fighting after three months with Hydra so they never bothered to restrain her anymore. Everyone knew how weak she was. Just like they all knew how she was close to breaking.

A scream from the room drew her attention. She felt a twinge of recognition but brushed it off. Word had gotten around that they had brought a man in a few days ago to be like her. Once they were both had their memories stripped, they were supposed to be a deadly duo. Schmidt had mentioned that he would be just as strong her, but she was most likely going to be a better soldier than him. She was tough, unbeatable. They had put her through a series of tests once they completed her injections and her body leveled itself out. They had trained her to be an amazing fighter, something she had picked up quickly. They had also trained her to be able to use various different weapons perfectly. Now, they just needed her to be wiped.

When she made it into the room, she saw him strapped into the same restraint chair she was always strapped to when she got here. His back was to her, they had the chair facing the shock chair in the middle of the room.

"That was the final injection," One of the various doctors said when he moved away from the man's back. She grimaced, feeling pity for him. She saw the strap from a mask like her old one, proving that they were training him to be quiet.

The guard bumped into her from behind, signaling her to start moving. She gave him a glare before making her way to the chair to the middle of the room. When she passed the new man, he began to struggle against his restraints even harder. She turned to look at him out of curiosity and her eyes blew wide.

 _Bucky._

She looked him up and down, her eyes flashing to the metal arm on his left. She glanced around at the various doctors and guards. She felt rage build up in her at the fact that Bucky was here to be tortured like her. She shot him another glance and gave him a small smile before she swung her leg around to kick the guard closest to her. He dropped his gun and she snatched it up instantly. She had no clue why they trained her before she was wiped, but she was thankful they did.

She shot down the guards first, knowing they were most likely her biggest threat. The magazine ran empty as a guard raised his at her. With all her might, she threw the gun at him, hitting him square in the forehead. He fell to the ground unconscious as she heard the click of a gun hammer.

"That's enough, soldier," She turned slowly to face Schmidt. Her face hardened when she saw the barrel of his revolver pointed directly at Bucky's head, "I will not hesitate to kill him. We can always find another. Get in the chair."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding as a doctor approached her. He held out a bite cloth to her and she snatched it from him. With one last glance to Bucky, she moved to the shock chair. She bit down on the cloth before the restraints slid into place. She could see tears in Bucky's eyes as the headpiece clamped down.

"Wait," Her eyes shot over to Schmidt again, "Zola seemed to have a fondness for her. He always ran the machine at half power. Let's bump it up to full power. I want her to be putty in our hands." Her eyes widened at his words. The shock was already painful enough without being full power. The doctors shot her a look before doing as they were told.

She kept her eyes glued on Bucky, committing his face to memory and hoping that she wouldn't forget him. The electrocution started and she bit back a scream. If she thought it was bad before, this was ten fold. She felt as if not only her brain was going to explode, but her whole body. It used to just feel like a migraine, but it now felt like she got hit by a truck.

When the treatment was over and she was released, Schmidt marched over to her. He ripped the bite cloth out of her mouth and yanked her from the chair. Her body was weak from the treatment so she crumbled to the floor in front of Bucky.

"Tell me who this man is," Schmidt demanded as he moved to stand behind Bucky. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the pounding in her head to subside. She looked up at him, scanning his brown hair and blue eyes.

Memories raced through her head. There was her, a smaller man that looked similar to her, and the man in front of her. Every memory that washed though her mind contained them. There were ones of solely him and her. Memories of them cooking together. Memories of them spending lazy days curled up in bed, hiding away from the man who looked like her. Memories of their quick little wedding.

"He's my husband," She glanced at the man again, seeing relief flood into his eyes.

"What's his name?" Dread washed over her as her mind came up blank. The man's eyes saddened once he realized she didn't remember. She sat back on her heels, desperately trying to remember the man's name, "I said, what is his _name_ , soldier?"

"I don't know," she admitted quietly. A smile grew on Schmidt's face as the couple looked at each other hopelessly. She knew him. She _knew_ she knew him. She loved him, and had for a long time.

Schmidt held a picture in front of her, "And do you know who this is?" She studied the picture. It was a man in a red, white, and blue uniform.

"I don't know him. He looks kind of like my brother," The memory from the night she was kidnapped flew through her head, "He _is_ my brother."

"And his name?" She searched but came up empty. She shook her head in defeat as Schmidt let out a cackle, "You see? This was all it took. Zola was going too easy on you because he admired your strength and resilience. I imagine just a few more treatments and you'll be ready," He turned to the various doctors in the room, "Get him in the chair."

"No," She bit out and swung a punch toward Schmidt. He grabbed her by the hair and roughly shoved her to the ground. Her face hit the ground and she began to bleed as Bucky watched helplessly.

" _You_ don't give the orders around here, Myshka. I do," He yanked her up and put her into a choke hold, "One wrong move she's dead," He said to Bucky as he pointed the revolver to her head. The doctors unstrapped him and he slowly moved to the shock chair. They gave him a bite cloth as the restraints slid into place. She slammed her eyes closed just as the shocking began and his screams filled the room.


	4. Chapter 4

"Again," their trainer barked as Stella once again pinned Bucky. They were both perfect fighters, but she was just too small and quick for him to be able to catch. They shot each other a look as they returned to their previous position.

By now, the treatment had almost fully melted their memories. After a few weeks, neither of them recognized Steve and after a few more, they didn't recognize each other. They both knew that they knew each other outside of work. They even knew that they loved each other. They both felt an overwhelming need to protect the other even if they didn't remember their past life.

He charged her, just as he always did. That was one of the things that differed between them. She was tactical, never making the first move and always waiting for someone to mess up. She was calculating, recognizing his pattern easily even though he switched it up every time. She was the better out of them, even if he was the most intimidating.

He threw a kick toward her side, hoping to catch her off guard. She ducked under his leg and spun, landing her elbow to the side of his head. They continued their hand to hand fight until he had actually surprised her. He had used one of her own moves against her by jumping and planting his feet on either side of her head. He twisted his body, effectively throwing her to the ground. The wind rushed from her lungs and she felt the cool metal of a knife being pressed against her throat.

"That's a first," Bucky slinked away from Stella, pulling her off the ground in the process, "The good thing is most of the people you will be fighting won't be as good as her. And you will, of course, have guns. Your main job, aside from assassinations, will be to protect her."

"I can protect myself," She bit out at the women. Over the past weeks, they have both learned who was okay to talk to.

"I know you can. However, when you're out, he will always be with you. An extra set of eyes, ears, and fists never hurt anybody. He will be the one assigned to the majority of the targets, but _you_ will be assigned to the high risk ones with him. Your aim is perfect, but we need to work on your hip fire accuracy."

"Why?"

"Because the best way for him to protect you is with the arm. You aren't tall enough to aim over his shoulder, but you're tall enough to peak over it. So," the woman grabbed her hand and yanked her to stand behind Bucky. He attempted to turn toward them, but she shoved him to face forward, "You will be behind him like this when you're approaching someone." The trainer grabbed Stella's hips and turned her to be perpendicular with Bucky.

"How will I shoot if I'm behind him?"

The trainer handed her an unloaded gun, "Just move far enough around his arm enough to shoot. Try to stay behind him as much as possible." She nodded and shifted around his arm, aiming the gun.

"That's a little uncomfortable, especially if I'm going to be firing," She moved back away from him, running through possible stances in her head, "How about," She used the barrel of the gun to nudge his arm away from his body. She situated the gun between his torso and arm, "This?"

"That would work for riffles as long as you don't shoot him. You, of course, won't have to use this position for snipping and with a pistol you could just swing your arm around his," She grabbed another unloaded gun and tossed it to Bucky. She jutted her head in a way that told him to aim it. He raised the gun, situating it onto his shoulder, "Just be mindful of where her gun is. Last thing we need is a ricochet bullet hitting one of you."

"I don't like it," She chirped, stepping out from behind him.

"Why not?"

"Because," she scoffed and gestured to him, "When they threw us together, they said we were partners. That means we protect _each other._ Not just him protecting me. He's not my body guard, he's my equal," She stole another glance at him and could see the fondness in his eyes. She was the most outspoken out of them since she was fairly confident Hydra wouldn't get rid of her.

"And you're right. But you need protection-"

Stella shook her head and cut her off, "I am one of the most skilled fighters in Hydra history. Schmidt said so himself. I don't _need_ anyone to protect me." The trainer studied them both for a moment. His glare made her uneasy. It was almost as if he was daring her to cross his partner.

"Very well. Just remember the stance. You might decide to use it one day." The two soldiers shared a look knowing that they would never use it. She had felt how tense he was when his job was to be the metaphorical brick wall that took bullets for her. He wouldn't mind dying for her, but he truly didn't want to leave her alone.


End file.
